Goldbanks within the year. There were legitimate opportunities for
investment that were bound to make rich returns. But without a dollar he
would be like Samson shorn of his locks.

All through the night he was joined in battle with himself, but when at
early dawn he stood on the top of Son-of-a-Gun hill and faced a sky
faintly pink with the warning of a coming sun his decision had been
made.

On his way back he met Moya and Miss Seldon. Joyce pounced upon him with
a grievance.

"You haven't told me yet how much you're going to give for the new
hospital, Mr. Kilmeny. You know we're leaving to-morrow, and you'll have
to decide at once. Be generous, please. You said yourself it was a good
cause."

He nodded agreement. "The most worthy charity I know. I've often
wondered why some Andrew Carnegie didn't set the fashion of endowing
hospitals by wholesale. They ought to be free to all poor folks out of
health. When a man is losing his wages and his family is scrimping he
ought not to be facing a thirty-dollar-a-week hospital charge. Yes, I'm
for the new hospital, Miss Seldon."

"How strong are you for it?" Joyce asked, laughing at her newly acquired
American slang. "Mr. Verinder has promised to give me two dollars for
every one I can raise among my other friends. So don't be a--a----"

"A tightwad," supplied Moya with a smile. She could do a little in the
native slang herself.

Jack went into his pocket for a checkbook and a fountain pen. He wrote
for a few seconds, tore the check from the stub, and handed it to Joyce.

That young woman gasped.

"Why--you don't really mean--it's for twenty-eight thousand two hundred
and fourteen dollars," she cried.

"And seventeen cents. Please don't forget that," he added.

"But--what on earth do you mean?"

Jack was looking at Moya, and she at him with shining eyes in which joy
swam.

"It's a little thank offering, Miss Seldon."

"Because you were rescued from the mine, I suppose. Still...."

"Because I'm engaged to be married to the best woman in the world," he
corrected.

Joyce whirled upon Moya with instant divination. "You little wretch, and
you never told me."

If Miss Dwight had not known it herself till this moment she gave no
sign to that effect. "We're telling you now, dear," she explained.

"How long have you been engaged? Was it yesterday in the bucket?"

Jack laughed. "Nothing so romantic. We've been engaged a little less
than half a minute. You get t